


Duty of the Day

by Missy



Category: Happy Days
Genre: Amnesia, Bad Characters Doing Good Things, Frenimies, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-27
Updated: 2013-12-27
Packaged: 2018-01-06 08:09:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 524
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1104473
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Missy/pseuds/Missy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kirk tries to decide if he should track down Fonzie or not when he unexpectedly disappears.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Duty of the Day

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Trope Bingo, Prompt: Amnesia

Missing persons are a dime a dozen in this city. Every day, some little boy wanders away from his mama and a national emergency is declared. They find him an hour later, sucking down creamsicle floats at the drug store and everybody acts like some miracle’s come down. They believe that God’s graced us with his unfolded hand and that everything will be fine for once, fine forever, fine at last.

That was the case when Arthur Fonzarelli drove his bike down the Causeway Turnpike on a foggy April night and disappeared for days.

Naturally, the Cunningham kid called me. “We need you, Kirk,” he says. “We can’t find Fonzie anywhere, and he hasn’t called for four days.” I told them he needs to be gone for six before they can call it a case, but he ignores me and talks right over me, until I’m so sick of the sound of his voice I agree to start the search.

It takes me another month to nose through the city, and two more to examine the likely suspects living throughout the state. He’s not hanging out in any of the juke joints in Flint, and he’s nowhere near the Mich border, and none of his friends can tell me where the heck he’s hiding. I’m ready to give up but something tells me to keep combing the border. Keep looking for that stupid bike of his and keep tracing the tracks of his skid marks until I find the right bike with the right plates parked off the side of Route 16, at a diner.

He tells me his name is Rob when I see him. He’s been chopping onions and slinging milkshakes for the past five months at this greasy spoon. Apparently he can’t remember anything after waking up in the gutter here after falling off his bike. He’s been living over the restaurant and sweeping up after his shifts, spending a little social time with the kid who works the register. Then he says out of the blue that he has a girl named Sallie living with him – she’s blonde and short, and a soda jerk at the drugstore downtown.

I sit there and watch him clean for awhile, thinking to myself the whole time that this can’t possibly be the cocky punk who dragged me through the mud a couple of years ago when I tried to have Inspiration Point wiped off the map. It couldn’t be the black-jacketed hero of that putz Cunningham. But the more I watched him with the others, the more clearly it all came into focus. 

Yeah. This was the Fonz all right.

So I asked myself: should I let him live happily, in blissful ignorance? Or should I call his friends and tell them to pick him up like the trash he is? 

The dime burns against my palm as I dial Cunningham’s number.

“He’s at the diner off Route 16.” I even disguise my voice a little, before taking off.

And there’s my good deed for the day. As I drive away, I almost feel like a boyscout.

Just don’t let it get around.

**Author's Note:**

> This fanfiction uses characters from **Happy Days** , all of whom are the property of **CBS Television/ABC/Garry Marshall**. No money was gained from the writing of this fanfiction and all are used under the strictures of of the Berne Convention.


End file.
